


The right thing for the wrong reasons

by injerannie94



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Arranged Marriage, F/M, M/M, Secret Affair, Slow Burn, Unplanned Love, more tags to come?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injerannie94/pseuds/injerannie94
Summary: It was with some reluctance that Fili accepted to see an array of suitors and partner for marriage in order to carry out his duties as sister-son and heir of Thorin Oakenshield.However, no one said Fili had to pick one of the suitors.When Fili first saw those deep brown eyes, he knew he didn't stand a chance.In which Tauriel Greeneaf, Thranduil's ward, is sent as a potential suitor to cement a bond between the Durin and Mirkwood kingdoms, and Fili finds himself falling for the dark-haired  servant for the Greenleaf family sent to accompany her.





	The right thing for the wrong reasons

**Author's Note:**

> so this came about as a result of the thought - 'what if a prince was lined up to see suitors, and accidentally fell for the servant who came with one of them?'.... I think we know, folks (or at least can guess!).  
> stay tuned, I can see a future for this story :) i've got a few ideas for the plotline (mostly broad ones about how things will turn out), but any ideas for the next few chapters/scenes/settings to help speed along the writing are welcome! Xxx

“It’s about time you were married.”

 

Fili sighed and put down his silver fork.

 

“I don’t feel ready to get married,” he explained to the table for the umpteenth time.

 

“Well the kingdom has been ready since long,” his uncle replied, fixing him with a beady eye. Fili’s mother looked down at her plate as she always did whenever this topic came up.

 

“I don’t see why I should be a pawn in your political games,” Fili groused moodily, picking up his fork again and pushing a piece of venison through a pool of gravy on his plate.

 

“Your marriage has nothing to do with my so-called political games!” Thorin insisted. “Well, not entirely,” he admonished, chagrined under the withering look Fili cast him. “You are of the age to get married. It is custom.”

 

“I’m not-“

 

“Ready, I know. But you are well old enough.” Fili resisted the urge to roll his eyes, dropping his fork again restlessly and fingering the stem of his chalice. He sneaked a glance at his mother for support but she was staring steadfastly at her plate.

 

“Helpful, Mother,” he muttered under his breath, before raising his voice to say: “We’ve been through this. We agreed you would never force me into anything or any marriage I didn’t consent to.”

 

“And I stand by that promise. But in return, you’ll remember you agreed that you would marry after you had turned twenty-seven,” Thorin said. Fili opened his mouth but had no words. “It’s true, don’t deny it,” Thorin said with uncharacteristic gentleness, and Fili shut his mouth, realising that was why had no words to say. “I introduced you to a number of admirers at twenty-one, but you said you would marry only once you had had time to rove and discover the world on your own. You’ve travelled. You’ve learned. You’ve done all the things you said you wanted to do before you settled down. And the kingdom – well, we could do with some allies, some alliances right now. Besides, you are my only heir.” Thorin smiled at Fili. “It doesn’t look good for our only prince to be wayward and turn his back on his duties.”

 

“My _duties_ ,” Fili groaned.

 

“Yes, your duties,” Thorin repeated, fixing Fili again with that beady eye he had had mastered since Fili’s childhood, the one that could make him squirm even now. Fili fought hard to keep still and repressed another groan.

 

“I will do it eventually. I just don’t – want to now.”

 

“You’ll notice I haven’t brought it up for two years since our twenty-seven years of age deadline passed,” his uncle said lightly. Fili twisted his lip and tapped his fork against the side of his plate.

 

“I never pressured you,” Thorin went on. “I wanted you to find someone on your own. But alas, you haven’t come across anyone who took your fancy, that I know of at least. So I’ve arranged for some potential suitors to come and visit next week.”

 

“I’m to see suitors next week?” Fili repeated, aghast, about to launch into a diatribe about how he wanted to marry for love not political convenience, how he _would not_ cave to social pressures to do something he didn’t want to. But even as he thought them, the arguments fell flat even inside his own head – he’d never been very interested in love, and all those valiant arguments were things he’d pulled out of storybooks.

 

“Suitors next week…” he repeated slowly, trying to buy himself thinking time.

 

“Yes.”

 

Fili thought, wanting to come up with some excuse, but also knowing that his honour would never allow him to. He had made a promise. And Thorin had been kind not to mention it for two whole years after his promised date, even though, while Fili had practically forgotten about their agreement, his singleness must have weighed heavy on his uncle’s heart as he waited in vain. And besides – marriage and courting was an adventure of its own kind, and one he hadn’t taken before. It might even be fun.

 

“Well, be sure to make them better than the last ones,” he told Thorin, half resigned, half amused, taking some gratification from the smiles of relief spread across Thorin and his mother’s faces.

 

* * * *

 

Had Fili really kidded himself that this might even be fun? Pah. Fili wanted to laugh at himself and his innocence of one week ago – but perhaps he’d bang his against a wall first.

 

He settled for leaning his head against the windowsill, looking out at the sunny afternoon and considering jumping out of it as an attempt to escape. A dreary lot he had seen so far. Ladies of all varieties, and even a few gents, all entering his chamber one by one to spend half an hour in his company. He had feigned interest in gushing maids, self-absorbed noblemen, and wishful to-be princesses, and pretended not to see right through the glaring hunger in their glinting eyes as they contemplated the gleeful thought of _marrying him_ , and having all their social-climber dreams come true.

 

He knew he was meant to be the one appraising them, but he felt more than a little appraised himself and it wasn’t a nice feeling.

 

He reached up to rub his cheek, aching slightly from all his forced smiling. What a dull, self-absorbed bunch. None of them held any conversation to speak of – the most interesting thing Fili had spoken about so far was a special type of hand-dyed Elvet lace which was weaved by blind druids in the north. The fact that the conversationalist in question had been wearing a dress made almost entirely out of this lace was evidently supposed to impress Fili, judging by the smug tone of her voice as she related this information, but Fili had just thought she was vain.

 

He reached out to his bookcase and traced his finger down one’s spine before pulling it out. It’s title read _Myths and Mysteries of Ancient Moria._ Maybe he would leave one on the table as a test to see if any of them could read. He could pretend to be reading it when they came in, and he’d know that if they glanced at the title of the book before attempting to engaging him in conversation that they had half a brain and might be worth spending time with.

 

There was a knock and a voice, clear but not too loud, asked, “Sir?”

 

Fili looked up and fell into a pair of big brown eyes.

 

Fili blinked, and the rest of his surroundings came back into focus. The huge dark eyes were set in the face of a young man who had just stepped into the room and positioned himself by the door, standing straight though with his arms clasped loosely behind his back, giving him a cordial but relaxed atmosphere. His dark hair, almost as dark as his ebony eyes, was pulled away from the side of his face and his jaw betrayed a shadow of stubble.

 

“Are you the next suitor?” Fili asked stupidly.

 

The young man cleared his throat, smiling. “No, sir. May I present Miss Tauriel Greenleaf.”

 

And a young woman, wearing a dress that matched her family name, stepped into the room, smiling broadly. She crossed the room in a few long confident strides and held out her hand. Fili let go of the book, taking her hand.

 

“Pleasure,” she trilled in a lilting, vibrant voice.

 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Fili replied politely.

 

“I’ve bet you’ve said that all day,” Tauriel laughed. She glanced at the book. “Reading were we? Can’t blame you, seems like a bunch of bores out there.”

 

“It’s not been an easy morning,” Fili admitted with a little chuckle of his own, looking at Tauriel. Her face was undoubtedly beautiful, full pink lips and milky cheeks framed with sumptuous mahogany hair and her emerald eyes sparkled.

 

“My favourite was the one in that god-awful Elvet lace dress. Had a face like she’d stepped in something terrible on the way over here.”

 

Fili laughed properly this time and Tauriel grinned before pursing her lips in mock demureness. “Apologies, I shouldn’t be criticising others in front of a prince. Ought to keep my conversation charming and witty.”

 

“Well you’ve definitely got the best conversation of all today,” Fili told her.

 

“Good to know!” Her eyes fell on the book Fili had discarded on the table. “I must admit, I’m not much of a reader myself. Although my father would prefer that I’d like indoor games, I rather like sports.”

 

“Do you?” Fili exclaimed, interested. There weren’t many women who preferred the outdoors (or at least who admitted it), nor had he met many with Tauriel’s boldness. It was not unpleasant though – he found it refreshing to be around someone who seemed not to care about why she was there, but who seemed intent on genuinely being herself and nothing but. The fact that she liked the outdoors meant that they had something solid in common at least.

 

“Oh yes! I adore horses. I almost wish I was a groomsman. I’m so envious of Kili here’s job,” she added, looking at the dark-haired man. “To be with horses all day sounds like heaven!”

 

The dark-haired Kili grinned and Fili looked back at him, this time taking in the young man’s clothes that clearly gave away his servant status. Unlike the other male suitors Fili seen, Kili was wearing a simple shirt and breeches, tucked into boots that had been polished but that nonetheless didn’t hide the mud scuffed around the edges, and a leather coat.

 

“I thought you were another suitor when you first walked in,” Fili told him, wanting to speak to the young man.

 

“Kili! Haha!” Tauriel’s laugh was infectious and Fili found himself smiling at the sound of it. “Oh no, he’s my chaperone. Sent by my father to make sure I don’t get up to anything untoward, isn’t that right?”

 

“As if I could stop you,” Kili replied. Fili sensed by the grins they exchanged and the casual, teasing way they spoke to eachother that they had a close bond, whatever the hierarchy between them.

 

“Indeed. You’re not just a groomsman anyway – you do an awful lot more than that.”

 

“Groomsman, waiter, butler, general factotum and slave,” Kili quipped, adding a mock sigh of sorrow. Tauriel stuck her tongue out at him.

 

“Excuse my lady, she doesn’t know how to behave in front of a prince,” Kili told Fili, still grinning.

 

“On the contrary, I find her quite charming,” Fili replied, smiling at Kili, and feeling an odd thrill when Kili smiled back.

 

Tauriel curtsied. “Thank you my prince.”

 

“Oh please, it’s Fili.”

“Fili then,” Tauriel smiled. “You know, you’re not half bad yourself, Fili. A lot more interesting than I thought you’d be and a sight more attractive.”

 

“You flatter me,” Fili pretended to swoon and Tauriel smirked in amusement.

 

“I suppose you had better get going,” Fili sighed after ten minutes of bright conversation. “I have four more suitors before this day is over.”

 

“Good luck with that!” Tauriel cackled. She curtsied low again in the customary manner and Fili responded with the customary bow.

 

“it was a pleasure to meet you,” Fili said honestly. “I do hope we see more of eachother.”

 

“I do too,” Tauriel replied, eyes sparkling. “And regardless of whatever happens, I hope you can come and visit us one day. Accompany your uncle on his next trip.”

 

“I will for sure,” Fili told her. Tauriel gave a final wave and blew him a mock kiss, and laughed as Fili pretended to catch it and clutch to his chest with feigned desperation. In a flick of auburn hair, she was gone. KIli smiled serenely behind her, the door clicked, and there was silence again.

 

 

It had been exactly a week since Thorin made his fateful announcement.

 

“I’ve made my decision,” he announced over the dinner table.

 

Thorin looked up in surprise. “Already? After just one day of suitors?”

 

“I don’t need to see any more. I have chosen Tauriel Greenleaf.”

 

Thorin’s fork froze three inches from his plate. “Tauriel Greenleaf?” he repeated. Fili realised his mother too was staring at him, agog. “That’s… Thranduil Greenleaf’s ward.”

 

“Yes. She was lovely,” he said, starting to feel self-conscious. “And very beautiful. She can hold her own, and I like that.”

 

“Mirkwood,” Thorin repeated again, softly, as if he couldn’t believe his own lips. “But that – that is exactly the union I was hoping for.”

 

“Really?” Fili asked.

 

“Yes. To build our bonds with Mirkwood would put us in a strong position. We have a lot to gain by striking up a relationship between our two houses. And of course, if she makes you happy – that is the most important thing.” Fili looked into his uncle’s eyes, and saw him smiling softly, and Fili knew that whatever the political gains from his marriage, Thorin meant what he said about Fili’s happiness being the genuine priority.

 

“Well, she was by far the best candidate I saw today,” Fili said. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about. She was one of the only ones who brought a chaperone along as well.”

 

“That would be a move from Thranduil. He’s rather old-fashioned.”

 

“Oh. He seemed very nice anyway. He was called Kili.” Fili felt his cheeks warm all of a sudden, not meaning to divulge so much information – not when saying his name out loud made his stomach give a weird little flip that was not altogether unpleasant. He glanced at his two family members around the table and noticed that both mercifully were concentrating elsewhere, his mother taking a sip from her chalice and Thorin focusing on a list next to him of the great families who had sent suitors today.

 

“Very well. I shall start making all the appropriate arrangements tomorrow.” Thorin picked up his fork again and resumed eating, still with a smile on his face. “You’ll be expected to go and stay in Mirkwood for a while to meet her family and ensure you truly are well suited.”

 

“Of course.” Fili knew this was common before marriages between great families and had been prepared for it. “I’ll start packing tomorrow.”

 

“You won’t need to leave for a few weeks,” Thorin told him. “There’s no rush.”

 

“All right.” Fili popped his last morsel of pork into his mouth and smiled at his mother, who was looking at him now.

 

“Don’t try to smile and chew at the same time,” she reprimanded gently, smiling back at him nonethehess. “It won’t do at Thranduil’s table.”

 

“I’m sure it won’t, Mother,” Fili agreed with mock sincerity, deliberately opening his mouth as he chewed. His mother made a noise of disgust, flicking her napkin at him.

 

“Don’t be disgusting!”

 

“Me? Never?”

 

“You’d better get all of this out of your system before you get to Mirkwood!” Thorin scolded, but joining in their game by flicking a pea at Fili with his fork.

 

“Agh! Missiles!”

 

The three of them ended up giggling after the meal was over, flecks of food spattered across their clothes and scattered over the table. Thorin’s white-haired butler, Balin, pursed his lips as he gathered the plates, balancing them with practised expertise.

 

“Sorry Balin,” Thorin said apologetically, looking up at his butler with chagrin. “We didn’t mean to make such a mess. But I suppose some wine was drank, in honour of our Fili having picked a suitor at last.”

 

“Is that so? Congratulations,” Balin smiled warmly at Fili and Fili smiled back. He realised with a pang that he would miss this house and these people when the time came for him to leave in a few weeks.

 

But lying in bed later that night, the pang was gone, replaced by a low thrumming excitement. Today he had picked a wife – picked for himself a whole new life based on a handful of ladies who prattled and paraded through his room. Or maybe it hadn’t been a lady. It was _Kili_ undoubtedly, indelibly on his mind as he lay awake, unable to sleep, vaguely thinking of Tauriel, though her image kept fading to be replaced by deep onyx eyes, framed by lush sweeping eyebrows, a lilting mouth on the brink of a smile.

 

Fili closed his eyes, abandoning sleep, and let himself loose in his own imagination, picturing the subtle tones of that olive skin, tracing the barely-concealed stubble sprinkled on that jaw with his finger.

 

“Kili,” Fili whispered out loud, testing how it tasted on his tongue. He liked how it rhymed with his own name - a mere coincidence? He was tempted to think not – and liking how hearing himself say it out loud turned the corners of his mouth up in an irrepressible smile. He said it again, picturing it hanging in the air in burning golden letters. He imagined Kili looking up at the sound – dark liquid eyes meeting his own, lilting mouth breaking into a smile. He felt that same odd thrill that made his stomach jump when he’d first looked unwittingly into Kili’s eyes earlier that day.

 

Fili was sure he’d made the right decision – if not for the right reasons. But that was a bridge he’d cross when he got there.

 


End file.
